Clumsy
by Tirainy
Summary: If you asked Sonic what words he'd never use to describe Shadow, among these words would definitely be the word 'clumsy'. Considering that Shadow had been exactly that for the past few days, it is obvious something isn't quite right.


**Clumsy**

If you asked Sonic what words he'd never use to describe Shadow, among these words would definitely be the word 'clumsy'. Considering that Shadow had been exactly _that_ for the past few days, it is obvious something isn't quite right.

 **TAGs:** fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Writing Exercise, Oneshot

 ** **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise.****

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It all started when Shadow returned from a month long mission for the GUN.

At first nothing seemed amiss. Sure, Shadow looked a bit weary when he had arrived home but that happened often considering his occupation. He also often returned with some kind of injury, which for once he hadn't but obviously that had been because Shadow had spend some time at the GUN's infirmary to heal.

Of course, Sonic had immediately inquired what happened that the agent had to spend time at GUN's infirmary—Shadow's Ultimate healing capabilities generally kept him from any kind of medical places for the most part—and Shadow simply replied it was because of a nasty arm injury. Sonic didn't push for details.

However, as he stood at the entrance of the kitchen, leaning against the door-frame, and just watched Shadow _fail_ at trying to evenly cut a simple apple into smaller pieces, he was honestly contemplating asking just what kind of injury it was that it messed up Shadow's soft motorics so badly; the pieces all varied in size and had shallow lines from failed cuts and the shapes were all over the place—cube, sphere, pyramid, you name it.

Even with other mundane tasks Shadow suddenly had unusual problems; yesterday the agent had dropped a glass when trying to pick it up, the previous day he had been trying to write something and his usually elegant handwriting was even more unreadable chicken-scratch than Sonic's—and _that_ was saying something—and the day before Shadow seemingly wasn't able to grab anything that was smaller than the palm with his hand.

But it was only when he was using his _left_ , Sonic had noticed that much. His right seemed to be as dexterous as ever, but his left seemed to have the strength and skill of a newborn. Which was weird considering it was Shadow's dominant hand.

Peach lips pressed into a contemplative line. Should he ask Shadow about it? The agent clearly didn't want to talk about it as otherwise he would have said something already. Maybe if Sonic continued to just silently watch and make it obvious he knew something was amiss, Shadow would soon offer explanation himself...

Figuring there would be no harm in waiting a bit longer, Sonic remained where he was and just watched. Eventually, Shadow did finish cutting, but then when he laid down the knife and began to pick up the cut apple(, taking each piece _separately_ for some mysterious reason), the pieces seemed to constantly slip from his hold, ending up anywhere from the farthest corner of kitchen counter to somewhere on the floor.

When about a seventh piece of apple found its way to the floor, Shadow swore loudly and brought his hands down on the counter angrily. With tan lips twisted into a scowl and hands curling into a fist and then uncurling multiple times, the agent took a few deep calming breaths.

Once he apparently felt calm enough, he knelt down and began to pick up the pieces that had slipped, the unhappy frown still on his face as he gave a frustrated sigh.

Sonic gave his own small sigh as he walked over to the agent and squatted down beside him, helping him collect the fallen fruit. Shadow didn't seem surprised by his sudden appearance—then again the agent was probably aware of his presence the whole time.

Still Shadow said nothing.

Figuring that Shadow obviously wasn't going to share what was the problem without being prompted, Sonic guessed he really would need to ask. After all, if Shadow was uncomfortable with talking about it, he could always refuse to answer.

As they rose back to upright position and deposited the fallen fruit onto the counter, Sonic laid a hand onto Shadow's back, rubbing gentle circles into it as he asked, "What's wrong, Shadow?"

Surprisingly, Shadow didn't deflect the question, he just gave a sigh and... "The injury I told you about..." Sonic hummed in acknowledgement that he remembered that conversation. "It actually wasn't because of the mission I spent a month away, it was because of the injury."

Sonic's hand on Shadow's back stilled. Shadow had _ridiculously_ fast healing rate so if the injury took a month to heal, then it had been _much_ more than nasty... "What happened?"

"I lost my left arm."

"...Come again?" Sonic blinked, quite sure he couldn't have heard right. Green eyes immediately moved to stare at Shadow's left arm to confirm it was still there. "Because what I've just heard doesn't—"

"I'm capable of extensive regeneration; I can regrow limbs, organs—every kind of tissue," Shadow cut him off, understanding where his confusion was coming from and immediately trying to clear it up. "However, it is a lengthy process so I needed to spend the month in a regeneration tank; that's essentially a tank filled with special gel filled with nutrients and chaos energy—Professor Gerald's creation. It would have taken _months_ to grow it back without it," Shadow explained in short, before sighing again. "I'm trying to learn how to control the new arm properly and it's frustrating. It's even more troublesome than the last time."

"...Yeah, I got the picture from watching you," Sonic commented with a small grin, before realizing the last part of Shadow's sentence. "Wait, last time? You've lost a limb before?"

"Right arm." Said striped limb curled around Sonic's waist, pulling the hero closer to its owner, just as the agent added, " _Twice._ "

"Ouch. That must have been horrible." Sonic grimaced. He couldn't even imagine what losing an arm would be like and Shadow had obviously had that happen to him. _Three_ times now. "...Can I help anyhow?"

"No, unfortunately." Shadow huffed. "...Maybe just get me a metal mug—and plate. I've already broken enough tableware this week."

"Will do." Sonic chuckled, pressing a small soothing kiss to the other's cheek, the hand on Shadow's back coming to rest on the agent's hips instead, gently squeezing. "But for now, you should take your mind of things. How about we wash these now and then eat them while watching a movie? We still haven't seen the one I borrowed from Vector."

Shadow knew he ought to practice, but right now he honestly felt like doing _anything_ else than that. He supposed small break wouldn't hurt.

"Let's."

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 **[Last Edited: 2018-09-07]**


End file.
